


Performance

by intergalacticbooty



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Barebacking, Businessmen, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Pole Dancing, Rimming, Slight Crossdressing, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalacticbooty/pseuds/intergalacticbooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cliche Stripper AU staring Roman and Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This sorta place isn’t really Roman’s kinda deal. In fact, if it wasn’t for his right hand man Seth dragging him out here tonight, he would be at home enjoying a nice glass of wine and reading a book by his fireplace.

But Seth is still so wild, so young and inexperienced and has more money than what he knows what to do with. Perhaps Roman does, too, but a divorce after your wife’s been cheating on you for three years behind your back because you’ve been working long hours to achieve such wealth, tends to mellow a man out.

Regardless, he entertains Seth because he’s loyal, headstrong, and an all-around pretty cool dude. That all being said, once it becomes apparent to Roman just how much this place isn’t his kinda deal, he might not hesitate to wring Seth’s neck out for this.

It’s a strip joint. A high class one, sure, and a surcharge fee that’s so exuberant that it’s guaranteed to have high class talent and to not be crowded. Especially now, on a Tuesday night, where most that could afford to attend this establishment would be busy at work. But Roman and Seth spent their time building their empire and could work and do whatever they virtually damn well pleased.

“Can’t believe you suckered me into this bullshit.” Roman scuffles as he makes a b-line for a comfortable booth type area, the seat cascaded in expensive black crushed leather and the table of some sleek, modern design that matches the whole elegance of the place. The stage is devoid of any talent as it stands now, but Roman muses that’s because it’s earlier in the night.

“C’mon, big dog, you gotta loosen up.” Seth motions over a waitress in a cute little black number, asking for a jack and coke before Roman begrudgingly orders a glass of red wine. “Listen, bro, I know you’re stressed out, okay?” The younger business partner slides off his suit jacket then, unbuttoning the top few buttons while Roman makes no move to relax. “I know that this…this past year has been hard on you…”

“Seth, don’t.”

“No, no, okay hear me out. You’re rich, you’re a stud, and you’ve got a whole hell of a lot to offer, my man.” He laughs nasally then. “I get it, you’re bummed and shit seems bleak, but maybe a little bit of a nice show can get that pecker of yours back in working order.”

“S-Seth!” Roman shoots him accusatory glare because of course he would bring that up. Of course he would bring up the fact Roman hasn’t had sex in over a year. God, why was Seth his best friend again?

Before Roman can start pummeling his face in, though, the sweet little blonde that took their orders returns and with them in tow. “The talent will start coming out now, soon. First we’ll have a thirty minute session where you can peruse any of those on the floor for a lap dance or perhaps a more intimate show in one of our private rooms. We’ll then proceed to our opening act of one of our newer talents on stage. After that, we’ll go back to lap dances and continue until our headlining event. Please enjoy your stay boys, and if there’s anything else I can help you with, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“She’s a cutie, ain’t she, Ro?” Seth comments more than asks as he sips at his drink, taking in the sights of some, well if Roman is being fully honest with himself here, fucking gorgeous talents. Men and women, all different shapes and sizes and races. Each having a type of sensual grace that you can only get at a strip joint like that.

There’s something sour in Roman’s throat though as he sloshes the wine around his glass, idly sipping at it when Seth pats his side, pointing rather discreetly at a petite woman with pink hair and flirty eyes. She oozes a certain order of confidence, swinging her long, vibrant locks over her hair as stops by at tables, testing the interest of men and women alike. “What about her, Ro?”

“Seth, I’m not interested in a lap dance, okay? Just…I’ll stay for a few hours bro, but I’m not pursuing any talent.” Seth rolls his eyes then, slouching against the soft seat before shrugging his shoulders and waving over at a heavier guy.

“Hey, you there, big man!”

“Seth!” Roman hisses under his breath, because honestly it’s pretty impolite to just explicitly refer to someone’s weight like that. Stripper or not. Although this guy that swaggered over to them with a confident little smirk and softly spiked brown hair didn’t fit the cliché image of a stripper, it was apparent he is all professional and well prepared.

“You callin’ to me, stud?” The talent tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes in an almost suspicious manner that for some reason makes Roman feel sad. Chubby or not, that guy’s got a decent amount of appeal, the way he carries himself giving off an air of sexual dominance and control.

“Yeah, yeah, I am…” Seth licks at his bottom lip then, but the lower turn and slight bow of his head hints off to his more submissive nature. Roman isn’t dumb and he and Seth have had more than a few conversations about their sexual experiences.

“What about your friend over here?”

“Pay him no mind, he’s bein’ a total limp dick about this place, but uh, I’m not the same way…” Roman rolls his eyes at being used for this little dance between them, but shrugs it off to sip at the wine Seth paid for.

The larger stripper straddles Seth then, the younger business partner’s eyes becoming wide as he feels that warm heat toppling onto his lap. He’s got a lot of grace, though, for someone of any size, let alone a bigger boned man like himself.

Seth looks flat out hungry, falling into some type of daze as it occurs to him such a sultry specimen has been quite literally dropped into his lap. Roman would probably chuckle at the lost gaze in his friend’s eyes if he, too, wasn’t a little entranced.

“Name’s Kevin…” He gruffs out, sliding his softer chest against Seth’s own smaller, firmer one.

“S-Seth, I, uh…g-got a dog named Kevin.” Kevin chuckles at that, hitching a leg over Seth’s shoulder in an alluring example of his hidden flexibility.

“Who names a dog Kevin?”

Roman snorts into his wine glass at that, but pays them no further mind, drifting a little into his own mind. There’s a slot of attractive, glorious people now that he could have sitting in his lap with just a small beckoning of his voice. But he doesn’t. Because all he can think of is the fact he’ll be returning home to his multimillion dollar home and slide into a cold, empty bed.

The half an hour passes by rather quickly, Seth looking absolutely disheveled as he shoves at least 400 bucks into Kevin’s shirt, thanking him immensely for the dance. “Jesus…gotta embrace my inner chubby chaser.” Seth chuckles, his neatly pulled back ponytail now having more than a few stray strands going every which way.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Roman chuckles, feeling rather relaxed with a small hint of sex in the air and having finished his strong glass of wine. “Guess you deserve it after that merger meeting last week.”

“Ugh, boner killer, thanks.”

Before Roman can rib him a bit further, the lights dim ever so slightly, a soft, glowing light drifting over the stage before the blond that served Seth and Roman earlier that night takes to the stage, mic in tow. “My name is Renee and ladies and gentlemen, I hope you’re all having a wonderful night thus far.”

It’s greeted with a few hoots and hollers, one of course booming from Seth’s obnoxious ass, but it doesn’t distract Roman from the stage. For some reason something in the air feels different. He isn’t quite sure what, but a small inkling within the back of his mind greatly desires to see what this stage dance might be all about. He didn’t have much luck with the lap dances, but something deep coiling in his stomach indicates this showing might have a different effect on him.

“We’re going to keep this night rolling along with one of our newest acts. He’s a little bit different compared to our normal talents, but he’s certainly got a special appeal that I know many of you will be clamoring for! Please welcome, ladies and gentlemen, one Moxley Moxx to the stage!”

There’s a low, thumping beat the lines up with a rhythmic pulsing of the stage lights as Renee disappears once more and a figure begins to emerge from the back of the establishment. Roman’s mouth becomes dry as the body slides into view.

Renee wasn’t lying when she commented this guy doesn’t have the normal look the other strippers do. They’re all polished, having a sort of finesse and professional air to one another regardless of their gender or size or any other attribute. They’ve all done this for a long time, will continue to do it and their grace and sex appeal is a fine tuned craft.

But not this man. No, Roman muses he’s more likely to find this guy pumping gas or at a Walmart at 4am. But that makes him all the more raw, his performance all the more real.

He’s got a mop of curly, red-brown hair and sideburns that come down a tad too long, 5 o’clock shadow clearly evident and adding a stark contrast to the tinted lip gloss and eye makeup he’s dawning. His face round, soft and pale and glowing in the stage’s lights and his eyes are a soft, relaxed droopy shade of powder blue.

And that’s just his face. Roman’s eyes trail down, being greeted by quite possibly the smallest waist he’s seen on another man, could easily wrap his hands almost all the way around, and it’s fucking glorious. There’s strength, though, in his long, lithe frame because Roman can see the muscles stretch beneath, gloriously pale skin that Roman is pretty sure has a few sizable scars on it.

The clothes seem out of place in the setting, but perfect for this…Moxley. A grey tank top torn unevenly to reveal his midriff, tight little jean shorts that are being held together by a few strands around his very sizable cock, ankle boots that are high enough to border on platforms, and a large, black buckled color with a few inches of spare chain. It’s absolutely perfect and Roman waits with raggedy breath as the performer begins to sway his body, the beat of the song picking up.

The way he folds his body around the pole, at the center of the stage, beginning his tantalizing dance. Seth turns to face Roman, going to make a comment about the eye candy in front of them, but he shuts his mouth instantly when he realizes just how lost Roman is in the performance.

He takes everything in, mouth running dry as he feels himself shamelessly drinking it all in, trying to remember just everything that body does. There’s a downright sinful gyration to Moxley’s hips, drawing attention to the length just mere centimeters from sliding out of his shorts. Roman’s gaze slides up higher, and he has to suck in a deep breath when he realizes this man is staring at him. Those blue eyes focusing at him amongst the numerous eyes hungrily raking over his form.

When their eyes meet, Roman is beyond lost. He thinks of what this man’s voice must sound like. A raspy, smoky type of timbre. Imagines the sweet pink hue of the tip of his cock when it’s hard. The taste of that light layer of sweet he’s broken as he splays his knees wide.

Roman has to have him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be slightly longer than I expected, but I felt like the last chapter didn't have enough of Dean's actual routine in it. I hope you guys don't mind, haha.

The sultry dance seems to just keep escalating, Roman’s hands clenching into the velvet as he tries to compose himself. God, it’s almost like Moxx is purposely targeting, gyrating his hips in Roman’s direction.

It’s so fucking inviting, the image of those strong, powerful thighs parting as he grinds his ass against the pole. Roman can feel himself basically drooling and Seth chances a glance at his friend and grins. Jack-fucking-pot.

Moxx bends at his deliciously small waist seamlessly, one knee wrapping around the base of the pole and using his free hands to propel himself, spinning loosely on the pole with just his bent knee to support him. Its athletic eroticism at its finest and the patrons of the bar all seem to agree as more hoots and hollers seem to fill up the place. All Roman can think about is grabbing those knees and hoisting them up, burying in face in this man’s ass and licking for all he’s worth.

God, he has to unbutton his dress shirt now, especially since Moxx as starting crawling to the front of the stage, away from the pole and bowing his back nice and deep. It accents that slight waist of his even more, the loose length of chain dragging against the floor as the stripper seems to be panting. Moxx has a nice, round ass that’s got just enough jiggle, just enough give to bounce as he crawls. His body is made to be adored and shown off to the eyes of the masses. It’s just that fucking beautiful.

Roman had no idea until now that some of the stage dancers would make it to the floor during their performances. But he’s pretty sure his dick is mere seconds from ripping through the front of his dress pants when the beat of the song picks up, the bass thumping harder as Moxx slides himself off the stage. He grinds his ass against the corner off it, the plump muscle of it sitting on it for a moment before he stares directly at Roman.

His tongue lulls out then, long and wet and seems to accompany the dog collar almost too well. Fuck, Roman wants to do anything to mingle his own tongue between those sweet little pink lips. He becomes lost in imaging what they taste like he almost jumps when a large platform boot slams down on the table in front of them. Seth’s clapping and hooting registers somewhere in the back of his mind, but now that those long legs are close enough, he registers those pale thighs are covered in very thin and partially torn fishnet.

“Hey there, big dog…” Smokey sex and a hard rasp. Just like he imagined. There’s a smirk there before he slides in closer, standing completely on the table before bending at his waist again, his ass effectively in Roman’s face.

His nails honest to god rip through the velvet covering of the plush bench because there’s a strict ‘no touch talent unless they’re putting themselves on you’ and Moxx hasn’t made contact and Roman is pretty sure his brain has short-circuited. Want. Want. Need.

So close, that amazing ass rolling mere inches from his face before Moxx windmills his legs around, spread wide and far and Jesus Christ, he didn’t even know people could bend that way. The view is just as goddamn sweet, Moxx's fat dick obvious through the skimpy layer of his shorts and panty hose and oh fuck, it looks like he’s wearing panties or something else underneath.

“G-God…”

“You can just call me Moxx.” He chirps back through the thumping baseline, before effortlessly sliding his arms behind him, using his palms to push himself off of the table and right into Roman’s lap. “You like that, big man, huh?” There’s sparkling little flecks of blue and white in his dark black eyeshadow that just sits so damn well with those mischievous eyes.

“I-I…” Roman can’t speak, he really can’t and he hates that he’s fucking up so bad, but who wouldn’t when such a fine specimen that smells vaguely of cherries and the sweetest musk is right in their lap, grinding their ass against his erection. “…oh fucking Christ…”

Moxx chuckles then long tongue flicking out to wet at his lip gloss, wide blue eyes fluttering at him hotly before he effortlessly throws a leg over Roman’s shoulder. “Seem pretty stiff, sweetheart, in more ways than one…” It’s a singsong of a statement and said so intimately that Roman’s head spines. Moxx manages to spend himself even further, leaning in close to his ear. “….’s alright, big man…you can touch a little, I won’t tell.”

That’s all the permission the businessman needs, grabbing his hands greedily at his waist and shamelessly moans out when he realizes just a couple more inches and his hands would completely encompass Moxx’s entire waist. It makes his head spine and he’d love to just rest there for a moment, but he’s greedy and wants to touch more. The stripper moans against him, especially as he slides his large hands down, palming hungrily at his ass. “Fuck, baby boy…what I wouldn't give to split you open on my dick.” He finally seems to find his voice and Moxx makes a small, needy noise at that, before using his other leg to push his crotch against Roman’s face.

The Samoan can’t help it as his tongue flicks out, one quick swipe to take in the intoxicating scent and sweat and fuck. God, he tastes so goddamn good and he’s moments away from just ripping those shorts off and going to town.

“Oh fuck…” He hears the sexy minx gasp out, pushing his dick farther against Roman’s face and damn near riding his head, seemingly forgetting for a moment that he was in the middle of working.

But much to his displeasure, the music seems to be reaching its climax and Moxx abruptly pulls away. He slides off of Roman’s lap, but not without giving him a small little grind and standing back on the small table.

Seth his staring up at him, wide-eyed as hell and impossibly turned on as he finishes his routine, ripping off the sorry excuse for jeans at the beat of the song drops to reveal what Roman suspected. A thin, almost sheer pair of panties.

The crowd erupts loudly, before Moxx turns again to make eye contact, throwing the shorts right into Roman’s lap. He quickly fumbles then, but manages to take out a wad of money, well over 5k and shoves it into the performer's grasp. Moxx stares for a moment, almost confused before he gives him a little wink. And just like that, the most gorgeous creature Roman has seen is whisked away, leaving him achingly hard and with the sexiest piece of clothing to ever grace his grasp. 

“Holy shit, Ro that was…something else.” Seth smirks, before waving down Renee to get Roman another glass of wine. “Never seen a routine quite like that before.”

“I want him.”

“Hell, I’m pretty sure everyone in the club did.”

“No, Seth…” Roman growls, shamelessly taking the shorts and pressing them against his face, taking a deep whiff. Seth is rather glad that the lap dancers have returned, some new faces filtering in to distract the other patrons from his friend’s bizarre behavior. “…I want him.” A deep, almost demonic timbre and as Renee comes back with a glass of wine Seth has to ask her.

“Can my friend over here get a private dance from Moxx?” He gestures over to Roman who he is pretty damn sure is vibrating at this point, palming himself shamelessly. They’ll definitely have to go by another club and pick someone up for Roman to pound into because a classy establishment like this isn’t a cover for prostitution. Regardless, Seth wants his buddy to at least enjoy himself a little longer with this Moxx guy.

Renee shakes her head then, looking rather remorseful. “I’m sorry, it’s not in Moxx’s contract to give private dances.” She shrugs her shoulders then, giving Roman a sympathetic smile. “We have a lot of others…”

“I don’t want anyone else. Ask him.” It’s a near violent grumble as Roman downs his second glass of wine in two greedy gulps. Over a year of sexual repression bubbling over and even a longer time of an unsatisfied sex life with a cheating wife seems to toppling down.

“Please, thanks.” Seth tips Renee an extra $100 as the hostess disappears to the back with a nod. “Relax, Ro…even if you do get a private dance, we don’t want you scaring Moxx away.”

“I just…fuck, Seth…I need him.”

“I know big guy, I know…just gotta wait and see what Renee says.” He pats his friend’s jiggling knee then, praying Renee can reason with the performer.


	3. Chapter 3

Renee joins them back several moments later, Seth having paid the stripper Kevin for another lap dance. Roman’s jaw is clenching and unclenching tightly as he waits for Renee.

“What did he say?” He says quickly, standing up with the shorts clutched in his sweaty hands, the hostess looking a little frazzled.

“He said that…you can speak with him in his changing room.” She motions for Roman to follow her then and the Samoan isn’t sure what this means.

Maybe he wants to negotiate more money? That’s fine. Roman would shell out any amount, would drop thousands to lick the bottom of those platforms. The businessman is going to tell his friend where he’s going, but with Kevin’s arms firmly wrapped around Seth’s neck, he doesn’t bother.

He’s too eager anyways, nearly tripping over his disgusting expensive Italian shoes as Renee leads him to the back parts of the club. This areas are sleek, sexy, and modern as well but the thumping beat of the music fades as they make it past several rooms. He’s left outside of a discreet, black door that looks like the rest of them.

Roman is far from Seth now, far from the dancefloor, but he’s absolutely drowning in arousal and excitement. He continues fondling the jean material, before knocking twice on the door. There’s a bit of shuffling then and Roman clears his throat before that sultry, sexy roughened voice calls out. “Come in, man…”

He almost breaks the door handle when he does, eyes widening as he takes in the figure lounging over an arm chair. Moxx’s legs are draped over the large arm of it and Roman is absolutely struck by how gorgeous this man is. The absence of make up just makes his features all the more pronounced. Roman realizes his eyes are droopy, almost to the point of looking soft and sleepy and holy shit…he has dimples. Deep and pronounced dimples that not even his beard can hide. And his lips are somehow manage to look even more inviting without gloss on them, a naturally warm pink hue as he lips at his fingertips, flipping through a stack of bills.

The stripper is dressed so differently now, worn jeans with holes at the knees that Roman’s pretty sure he doesn’t intend to be fashionable, old ratty converse, and a soft looking cotton shirt that must be so old because it’s so faded he can’t make out any writing in it. But on this man, the outfit is as exquisite and sexy as the most expensive lingerie money can buy.

“Moxx, I-I…my name is…Roman Reigns…”

“Dean.”

“Hmm?”

“Name’s Dean, big dog. My real name, at least.” He smirks, winking over at the businessman who simply grasps tighter onto the torn denim in his hands. “You got poor lil Renee all freaked out. Houndin’ her about a private dance from me, huh?” Dean continues to thumb through the money, focusing his eyes back on it.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…”

“Relax, compadre. Wouldan’t had her bring you back here if I wasn’t willing to listen. So…” Dean finally finishes counting up the wad of cash, undoubtedly the money Roman gave him. “…go on, spill it.”

“She, Renee, told me private dances aren’t in your contract, but I…shit, man, I’ll pay any price.” Roman means it. There isn’t even a goddamn number on the arousal and attraction he has towards this man.

“Any price?” Dean snorts then, folding one leg over the other and revealing a small sliver of that delicious midriff. Roman can’t help but shamelessly lick his bottom lip and the performer can’t help but to just as shamelessly follow it with his lustful gaze. “Heh…you know I’m not a hooker, dude, right?”

The businessman’s blood runs cold then because yeah, he knows. He knows that and is somewhat overjoyed by it because if anyone gets inside of this body it would be a goddamn honor and shouldn’t be anyone who can shell out something as common as money. “I know, I just…I want to see more of you without any other audience, baby boy.” It’s a possessive grumble of a tone and he can see the twinge of interest at the pet name.

“Any price…” He smirks again and Roman simply nods. “...you realize you dropped $7,000 on me earlier right?” Dean waves the folded stack of bills for emphasis. “And now you’re trying to spend more on me just for a quieter room?”

“You’re the sexiest creature I’ve ever seen…” It’s so honest and pure, Roman feeling almost sheepish as he rubs at the back of his own neck, still rubbing at the stripper’s jean shorts. “…I would shell out anything for a little more of your company. I know you got a respectable job, baby, and I’m not tryin’ to pressure you to do anything. Just…one more dance, alone?”

Dean stands up silently, shrugging a leather jacket it on and stuffs the money into his left jacket pocket. Roman is nervous as all hell, heart in his throat because he may have overstepped his boundaries and offended this beautiful creature. And there is nothing more in the world he would want to do less. “Listen here, big guy…you gave me more than enough money to pay for my rent for a whole fucking year, dude.”

God, the word ‘fuck’ sounds so sweet coming out of that smoky rasp. What a sultry, gorgeous thing this man is. But Roman tries to focus as hard as he can, swallowing the saliva that’s gathered in his mouth as Dean approaches him, hovering closely. $7,000 can cover Dean’s rent for a year? Roman grimaces a little inside to think about what kind of slum he must live in. Goes to show money ain’t everything, though. “And I’ll pay you more…just name your price.”

“Nah, that’s not gonna work for me.” Dean smirks, still hovering and Roman mentally punches himself. Why does he keep fucking up? What if he gets banned from this strip joint? Then he wouldn’t even be able to lust at the ‘Moxx’ persona from afar. “How about this, big dog, I can get dressed up again and give a private show…free of charge since I’ll be eatin’ steak for the next two months thanks to you.”

“But-“ Roman doesn’t know why he’s butting, because Jesus fuck, Dean just agreed to give him a show all his own. Even so, Roman just doesn’t feel right accepting such a precious gift while giving nothing in exchange.

“No buts.” Dean says quickly, before he leans over slightly, before full on falling into Roman’s lap. “But there’s another option, Romie…mind if I call you Romie?” The performer starts petting at the businessman’s slightly exposed upper chest.

“You can call me anything you want to, baby boy.” He’s greeted with a dimpled smile then and Roman’s pretty sure Dean can feel the uptick of his heartbeat. He doesn’t care anymore, he just wants. “What…what’s the other option?”

“The other option ‘s pretty obvious, dude…” Dean coos before he hazards kissing at Roman’s Adam’s apple. “…I felt your tongue against my junk then…and I know what you really want, man. And ‘m willin’ to give it to you. Been a while since I’ve had a nice fuck…” The last word he whispers close into Roman’s ear, giving the copper skin a nip there.

“Jesus…you…you want me to take you home?” Roman pauses then, hesitance scanning over his face because Dean made it obvious he’s not a prostitute. Is he…willing to sleep with Roman because the attraction is mutual? This glorious, sexy, rugged enigma of a man is propositioning to spend the night with Roman?

“Yeah…I think you might be a little bit more comfortable at your place. Mine’s kinda a hole in the wall kinda deal…promise not to steal your wallet.” He snorts and jokes, but Roman’s all business as he stands up, hands firmly wrapped around the torso of his new conquest. “W-Whoa!”

“Oh, just you wait…you’ll be ‘whoa’ing all night long, beautiful.” Dean chuckles at that, kicking his feet out playfully as Roman lifts him bridal style.

One of the benefits of being insanely rich, Dean realizes, is apparently being able to have a limo pick you up in five minutes flat wherever and whenever you might be. Roman doesn’t even let him stand, gently sliding him into the backseat of the vehicle before joining him then. “Damn…make a boy feel special, big guy…”

Roman chuckles at that, before shaking his head. “Someone like you deserves this and a whole hell of a lot more…” Dean makes a strange face at that, but decides not to challenge the statement. “…want a drink?”

“Nah, Romie, I wanna remember all of tonight.” He leans in close then, rubbing at the businessman’s chest once more, sliding his leg between Roman’s own.

The older male almost throws his phone out the window when it vibrates, him with a lap full of Dean Ambrose. He checks it quickly and it’s a message from Seth who’s sent him a picture that makes it quite obvious he’s paid for a private dance from that Kevin fella. He quickly texts back informing Seth what’s going on and as soon as it’s sent, there’s another hot little lick of his ear from a certain erotic dancer.

By the time they make it to Roman’s house, both men are impossibly hard, grabbing and petting at each other hungrily as Roman manages to pull himself away long enough to tip the driver a heavy amount. “You ready for me, sweetheart? Been teasin’ me all night, y’know…” He bites his bottom lip then, taking in Dean’s debauched appearance as he leads him inside.

The smaller male clears his throat, eyes widening for a moment as he takes in the massive front hallway. This particular home of Roman’s is more modern, necessary considering the fact he had to have it built from scratch, and Dean gawks a little. “Yeah, I am ready, but uh…makin’ me feel really underdressed here, buddy.” He scratches at the back of his neck then and Roman feels a little awkward for a moment, before he dawns his smooth swagger once more.

He’s a stud, a catch, just like Seth always says. He just has to get a bit of his mojo back and no one is more deserving of a fun night than a beauty like Dean who makes sure others have their own joyful nights. “Nonsense, baby boy…now c’mon, wanna get these clothes off of you.” Roman takes his hand then, the skin surprisingly soft, before he leans in and captures those pretty little pink lips in a heady kiss that leaves them both breathless.

Fortunately Roman’s master bedroom is only on the second floor, leaving Dean to gawk less and hopefully feel more comfortable. “’s a real nice place, man…” It’s said so nonchalantly, but everything coming out of the stripper’s voice seems to have this air of smoky sex to it that gets his engine going like nothing else he can remember.

“Enough about this stupid house…focus should be on you, babe.” It’s almost a grumbly noise as Roman opens the double doors to his bedroom, Dean stepping in rather eagerly. It’s as glorious as the rest of the house, but a bed is a bed and as opposed to looking shocked or surprised by it as he has the rest of the house, Dean gives him a heady little over the shoulder glance.

Roman can’t help but race up behind him, gently guiding that sultry, lithe frame down onto the bed. In an instant, the images of that tantalizing dance and the taste of denim-clad crotch filter through Roman’s mind and he’s grinding their crotches together, the layers of clothing failing to hide either man’s arousal. “Damn…” Dean lulls his tongue out, before reaching a hand down, palming through dress pants. “…fuckin’ hung like a horse, my man…gonna give it to me good?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am…once I get these damn clothes off of you…” Dean shifts away, arching higher up on the massive bed as he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it at the other kneeling man with a playful smirk. His jeans follow soon, arching his spine effortlessly into a little bridge, making a show of it as Roman manages to stumble undressing himself.

He muses he probably shouldn’t make a habit out of ripping his shirt off, but there’s tailors for a reason and he can pick up all the buttons in the morning. His pants follow suit, toeing off the slightly uncomfortable shoes before he’s left in nothing but a maroon pair of boxer briefs.

“Oh, Romie..didn’t tell me you had a tattoo…fuck, that’s hot…” He pants out, sitting up and crawling towards Roman as the large male effortlessly slides across the bed. It becomes apparently how long Dean’s tongue actually is, especially when it starts caressing the ink, ghosting just centimeters from Roman’s sweet heart. “…mmm, you’re big all over, aren’t ya?” A flash of those dimples and a hot fluttering of lashes and Roman loses the last bit of restraint he has.

It doesn’t take much for Dean to end up on his back, legs spread wide and loose for Roman to hungrily grab at. “Wanna suck you off…been thinking about havin’ you in my mouth all night…” He’s in such a haze he doesn’t even thinking about reaching for a condom, just has to get that dick in his mouth when he takes in the sight of it hard and straining in a dark pair of panties, fuck.

“Do it…’m clean…we get tested every month.” Dean pants out and Roman should be a little more scared about the fact he would have sucked Dean off without a condom, regardless of if he disclosed that info or not.

There’s a light trailing of brown-red curls just above Dean’s crotch and Roman nuzzles there before sliding the panties down, letting out an audible groan. “You’re uncut, fuck…” He moans, beginning to pull back Dean’s foreskin and hungrily lick as the smaller male trembles.

“Mmm, yeah, bet you are, too, knowin’ just what to do to me…” Dean lulls his head back, threading his fingers through Roman’s hair and tugging on it here and there. Roman’s greedy, hungrily lapping and sucking at his length, swallowing him down between strokes down to his balls, before popping back up to nip at his foreskin.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet…wanna fuck my throat, baby? Use my hair and take what you want?” Roman’s half delirious, but speaks with a confident timbre that has Dean arching his spine dramatically, hesitantly bucking his hips. “Nah, baby boy...want you to really fuck me throat, mmm…yeah, come on. Wanna taste your come.”

They make eye contact then and Dean is panting, Roman’s dark gaze downright primal as he sucks him down and stays there. Dean finally caves, that unwavering, hot glare from the larger male bumping him close to orgasm and he grows bold enough to grip tightly onto those inky locks and fuck.

Roman licks up his orgasm hungrily, Dean panting and grabbing for purchase as the older male hoists one thigh up, licking and nipping at the inside of his thigh. “Mind if I eat out this pretty little hole, huh? It’s been winkin’ at me…”

“W-Well shit…” Dean chuckles, petting lazily at Roman’s hair as he’s still coming down from the high of his release. Been a while since he’s been eaten out and even longer since someone’s asked for something so sweetly. “…h-how’s ‘bout you give me a kiss, Romie, then you can eat my ass all you want. Since you asked so nicely, heh.” He obliges, Dean bending forward impatiently as Roman crawls up his form, their tongues pushing and rubbing against one another with a wet smack, sharing the taste of Dean’s come.

That tongue waggles tantalizingly close to Dean’s hole, Roman making sure to suck and bite and lick at his thighs, balls, and perineum. His legs are spread shamelessly wide, cock half hard already once more because Roman’s absolutely ravaging him, driving him so wild all Dean can do is cant his hips and ask for more. “Mmm…” He hums, before finally brushing that wet muscle against Dean’s twitching hole.

It’s musky and hot, sweaty and earthy and he goes absolutely wild after the first lick, sucking and licking to his heart’s content. “Oh more, yeah, lick that fuckin’ hole…’s yours, big dog…fuck…” Dean’s babbling nonsense soon, but Roman doesn’t mind, especially not when Dean flat out keens as Roman gets his tongue inside, stretching him nice and wide with just the fat wave of his tongue. “…s-shit, man, need your dick, need it in me. Need it in my boy cunt, fuck!”

And that makes Roman’s head spin, hyperaware of just how achingly fucking hard he is and he seeks to damn near leap off of the bed, returning in a flash with condoms and lube. It doesn’t take much to stretch Dean out, the younger male relaxed from his earlier release and well stretched by Roman’s tongue. “Fuck, you ready for me? Ready to take this cock? Mmm, cunt’s all hungry…” Filthy obscenities spilling from his laps

He’s laying back effortlessly, eyes ever so gently shut as his breath hitches here and there at being stretched and the filth slipping from Roman’s lips, but the crinkling of a condom makes him finally arouse from his lustful haze. “Don’t need to use that, big dog…I trust you.”

Roman looks a little taken aback then, but Dean shoots him a dimpled grin before pulling the businessman on top of him, sharing a rather chaste kiss. He hesitates, wanting more than anything to be inside this beautiful specimen bare, but…would it be fair? Would it be right? Would Dean regret it? Dean takes all these worries away, however, as he caresses Roman’s face, giving him a small wink.

That’s all the permission he needs and then he’s sliding in, fitting in perfectly as if his dick always belonged here. Dean lets out a long, guttural moan before egging Roman on, kissing at his jaw and neck hungrily. Roman’s lost, truly lost because he starts fucking hard and fast, the wet slap of his balls against the back of Dean’s ass and the wet slip slap of his well-stretched hole driving both men crazy. It’s been so long, too long, since Roman’s had a hot, willing body with him, but he’s pretty sure Dean is the best he’s ever felt. “So good, so fuckin’ hot and tight for me, baby boy…”

Dean simply moans in response, looking every bit as gorgeous and otherworldly as he did on stage earlier that night. He tries to sneak a hand between his thighs to tug at his own dick, but Roman practically growls as he uses his lubed fingers to tug at Dean’s length. “Shit, fuck, Romie…’m close again…g-gonna make me come so hard, fuck…o-oh!”

He keeps pumping him through his release, hips nearly jackhammering now as Dean’s tight, hot heat clenches around his length. One. Two. Three thrusts and Roman is right on the edge, Dean babbling once more as Roman’s keeps rubbing his overly sensitive cock.

The plan is to pull his dick out and come on the pristine ab’s of this sweet stripper, but instead Dean wraps his legs around Roman’s waist tightly, hungrily lapping at his lips until his Roman grants him entrance and he comes. He comes balls fuckin’ deep in Moxley Moxx, the hottest goddamn stripper in the world. Roman’s also pretty damn sure he’s in love.

They’re lying in a mess of come and sweat as Roman rubs gently into Dean’s hip, the smaller male nuzzling under his chin and tracing the outline of his tattoo. “Stay here.”

“Well I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, your dick made sure of that.” A soft, lighthearted chuckle escapes, but Roman sits up slightly, stern gaze completely serious.

“No, stay here. With me. I-I’ll buy out your contract. Give you anything you want. Just…fuck, baby boy, want you to be here with me.” He doesn’t dare hazard the ‘love’ word and the expression on Dean’s face, one of shock to the point of confusion troubles him.

“Listen, big guy…” Dean doesn’t stop rubbing at his inked flesh, giving him a small, playful smile that ease’s Roman’s nerves. “…’s sweet of you to offer, really. But ‘m not leaving the joint anytime soon. And ‘m not movin’ in with anyone anytime soon. Tonight was fun, real fun…”

Roman swallows dryly then, looking away from Dean although he doesn’t let go of him, still huddling that lithe form close. “…but it was just one night, right?”

“…no.” He snorts then, and Roman realizes what a cute, pointy nose the other male has. “…I was gonna say tonight was fun. And I’d like to have some fun tomorrow, too. Maybe take me out for a cup of coffee, stud, and we’ll see how it goes from there?”

“I’d…I’d like that.”


End file.
